Cranium
by Imagination Central
Summary: When Derek pisses off a voodoo shopkeeper, and winds up with a curse that allows him to read everyone's mind - including his ridiculous roommate Stiles - he finds himself, for the first time in his life, wanting to know more. And more is what he gets. Human AU. SMUT & LEMONY CITRUS


**Hello! Here is my second request/nonrequest (?) fic! I found this prompt on tumblr and suggested it to my friend, to which both her enthusiasm and help shaping the basic idea of the story we owe this to. It's an annoyingly short chapter, and I do apologize for that. However, I hope you enjoy!**

 **WARNINGS: Cursing and mentions/thoughts of SEEEEEEEEEEEEEX**

x~x~x

Derek still wasn't exactly sure how Erica had convinced him to do this. He was absolutely positive he hadn't agreed to do this of his own free will. Still, that didn't change the fact that he was there, sitting at a worn wooden table in a voodoo shop, watching Erica shuffle through jars of pink and red liquid under a yellow sign with the words, 'Love Potions' printed on it with little hearts.

"Erica, why are you looking for a love potion?" Derek asked, scrubbing a hand over his stumble in annoyance. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

Erica looked up, flicking her blonde hair out of her eyes. "Aw, Derek, I'm touched. You don't think I need a love potion?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm asking because you and I both know those won't work. It's probably just water with food coloring in it."

Eric shrugged her shoulders and grabbed a bottle from the shelf. "Then there's no harm in me buying one, is there?" At that exact moment, a tall man suddenly emerged from the back of the shop, clothed in dark robes. He pulled the hood back to reveal a pale, gaunt face with dark, deep set eyes that were eerily still as they looked at Derek, then at Erica.

"I heard someone is interested in purchasing a love potion?" He asked in a wispy, hollow voice.

Erica made a happily satisfied face, and nodded, holding out her love potion to him over the counter. He accepted it and checked it out, placing it in a thin black cloth sack. "Now, be sure to understand that this will not make someone fall in love, rather, it will increase their feelings of positivity towards you. So, if you choose an enemy, the best result you will receive would be friendliness. I suggest using it on someone who may already have feelings for you, for the best results."

Erica nodded, smiling over at Derek. Sighing, Derek suppressed the feeling of sympathy for the cute cashier at Starbucks Erica was so enamored with. Then the owner of the shop turned on Derek and smiled. It was a creepy kind of smile, with all gums and the very tip of tooth. "What would you like today?"

Derek shrugged. "Not anything, really. I just came here because Erica forced me to."

"I see," the shopkeeper said, smiling that strange smile again. "Perhaps I could help you find something you wish to improve in your life?"

Derek couldn't help but roll his eyes. "No, thanks. I don't think colored water will help me with the problems in my life."

The shopkeeper's smile hardened. Erica punched Derek on the shoulder. "Ah, yes, I doubt that would help anybody as well." He swept from behind the counter, and went to stand directly in front of Derek. Reaching his long, bony fingers out from under his robe, he grasped Derek's chin, forcing the stubborn man to look him in the eye.

"What you need in your life in companionship. Someone who you share everything with, and they share everything with you."

Derek froze on the inside, staring at the man. He saw it in his eyes, and he smirked in triumph. Releasing his grasp, the shopkeeper turned away from Derek, towards Erica.

"How many friends does this man have?"

Erica glanced over at Derek, a grin in her eyes. "One, maybe two, counting the dark storm cloud he carries around all the time."

The shopkeeper nodded, then smiled over his shoulder at Derek. "I see. Well, Derek do you want to change that?"

Derek's stubborn side reared its head. "No. I don't need some fake sparkle powder and scented candles to find some friends. I could make as many friends as I wanted, _if_ I wanted. Unfortunately, I don't care about what anyone else thinks, so I'm fine solo."

The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes at Derek. Then, he drew his hands back under his robes and nodded. "As you wish. I suppose I cannot make you turn from your vow to loneliness. Here, let me help you to the door." The robed man stepped in front of them, holding the door open and letting in the warm evening air.

"Thank you so much, and sorry he's such a grouch." Erica smiled as she passed the man, and he smiled back at her. Then he turned his head to Derek.

"I hope you find happiness," he murmured, taking one of Derek's hands in both of his cold ones. There was a sharp prick at the tip of his index finger, and Derek pulled his hands from the man's grasp, looking at his finger. There was a small crimson bead of blood at the very tip of his finger. Derek glanced over at the man in confusion and annoyance, and found that he was gone. Frowning, Derek looked behind him to the voodoo shop, and saw that it was completely shut down – every light turned off, every window shuttered, and the CLOSED sign hanging from the door. Swallowing and wiping his blood off on his pants, Derek ran to catch up with Erica to tell her.

Frowning, Erica rolled her eyes at his worry. "Derek, I thought you didn't believe in that sort of stuff."

"I don't, but still. Don't you think that's a little weird? Him pricking my finger then vanishing?"

Erica shrugged, holding her love potion closer to her body. "I think it's cool, but that's about it. I just bought this love potion so I could _tell_ cute Starbucks boy that I gave him a love potion. He'll either be into it at first, or, due to the power of persuasion, he will overthink the love potion thing, which will make him think constantly of me, which is will cause him to fall in love with me. It's a flawless plan."

Derek made a noise of agreement, but he was barely listening to her. The urge to run back to the shop and demand that the man throw away… what? His blood? Looking back down at his hand, Derek saw no trace whatsoever that there had ever been a cut there. Strange. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing? Shaking it off, he joined Erica in the cab, and ignored the strange feeling in his gut the rest of the way home.

x~x~x

Bringing his keys out of his pocket, Derek unlocked his shared apartment and stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. There was a strange absence of sound, and as Derek stepped into the small kitchen area, he saw why. Stiles was slumped over a textbook, his large, squared glasses sitting askew atop his perky nose. His phone lay next to him, screen still glowing. Derek walked over to him and picked it up. Stiles' Spotify playlist was still playing, and the title was 'SMART SONGS!'. Derek took Stiles' earbud out and put it in his own ear, listening. Beautiful piano music filled his mind, and he found himself instantly at ease. Deciding he would copy down Stiles' playlist later, he paused the song and went back to looking at Stiles.

When they had first agreed to be roommates, Derek because he couldn't afford living on his own, and Stiles because he wanted some company, Derek had thought no more of Stiles than he would have an annoying fly that was almost always buzzing by your ear. However, recently Derek had started to notice the redeeming qualities in Stiles. His constant, delicious smile. His adorable nose. His positivity. The way he either threw himself entirely into something or not at all. Stiles stirred softly in his sleep, and Derek looked quickly away, turning off Stiles' phone with a click. Then he turned back to the sleeping man.

His plump lips were parted, his hand pushing his cheek up where it rested. His long legs were dangling from the stool, brushing the ground. Derek bent low and slipped his shoes off, careful not to breathe through his nose the whole time. Then he stood up again, slid his arms under Stiles' pliant body and hefted him gently up. There was a sleepy smacking of lips, and Stiles gave a soft murmur of protest as Derek carried him to his room. When he laid him down in bed, Stiles curled into him before Derek let go, making it nearly impossible for Derek to resist staying with him. He did, however, and as he watched Stiles turn over in his sleep, there was a soft tug in his gut. Acting on instinct only, Derek reached forward and pushed his hands through Stiles' soft, thick hair. He heard Stiles sigh, then removed his hand and covered him with the comforter. Leaving the room, Derek looked at Stiles one more time, and the shopkeeper's words echoed in his head. _What you need in your life is compassion. Someone who you share everything with, and they share everything with you_. Derek bit his lip, then turned away and closed the door with a definite click.

x~x~x

 ** _Eggs sound wonderful_** **.**

Derek jerked awake, blinking into the soft light filtering through his window.

 ** _How can eggs have a sound?_**

Derek glanced over his shoulder, blinking again. That was Stiles' voice, but he didn't know where it was coming from.

 ** _I wonder if eggs are planning a mutiny against chickens._**

"Stiles shut up," Derek groaned, scratching a large hand against his face. "I was asleep."

Stiles popped his head into Derek's room, grinning sleepily at him. "Did you say something?"

"I said shut up. I don't want to hear you talking about eggs."

Stiles frowned for a moment. "Was I really saying that out loud?"

 ** _Damn he looks good in the morning._**

The breath caught in Derek's throat. There it was again. That voice. _Stiles'_ voice. But Stiles was standing right in front of him, blinking big doe eyes.

"I-I guess so," Derek replied, nearly falling out of the bed in his haste to stand up. "I just remembered, I have to meet Erica for coffee."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, raising one eyebrow.

 ** _Little liar. Well, big, muscular liar. I bet he's going off to buy some even tighter shirts._**

"Oh, Jesus," Derek muttered, glancing back down at his hand again. There still was no sign that there had ever been a cut.

"Can't you stay and have some eggs first? I made them special," Stiles grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, then fled the room as Derek threw his shoe at him. He needed to get away from that man.

 ** _Why do I even try with him? OH GOD THE EGGS ARE ON FIRE!_**

Just then the fire alarm went off, it's loud shriek sure to rouse everyone within a five mile radius. Derek's tolerance level took a very swift plunge, and he was suddenly out of his room, storming towards Stiles, who was pouring the whole gallon of milk onto the fiery skillet of eggs.

His anger disappeared for one moment as he watched Stiles dump all of their milk into the little pan, spilling about everywhere else.

 ** _I should have used water. Water isn't sticky. Why am I still pouring this? Look at that, it's like milk soup. Maybe if I let it boil long enough, it'll make curds and whey. Then it would be curds and whey soup, and I could feed it to the neighbor's gross baby._**

Stiles looked quickly up, as if afraid he had said that aloud. When he saw Derek standing behind him, he paled and lost his grip on the gallon of milk, watching in almost slow motion as it fell to the floor and exploded what was left all over them.

Derek's anger was suddenly back.

"You are most unbelievably idiotic person I know," Derek growled, fisting his hand in Stiles soft shirt, pressing him up against the fridge.

 ** _I wish I could shoot him with some gamma rays._**

Shaking Stiles' thought off, Derek glared hard into Stiles' eyes, trying not to become distracted by the way he licked his lips.

 ** _Did he just watch me lick my lips? Let's try again._**

Derek kept his eyes firmly up, but he saw Stiles' mouth move out of his peripheral vision and pressed him harder against the fridge. "You're going to clean this up by the time I'm back." He hissed, grabbing Stiles' jaw with his hand. Then he quickly let go, amazed that he had gone that far. Stiles was looking at him with a weird expression on his face, and Derek could tell that he was thinking something.

He didn't know what. Frowning, Derek turned away quickly, pretending to walk out the door. He stayed quietly in the hallway, but could hear nothing other than the sound of Stiles groaning as he slipped in the milk. What the fuck was going on?

x~x~x

Erica swirled her straw around her smoothie cup, a small frown on her face. Derek couldn't read her thoughts at the moment, or anyone else's, thank God. They had decided to go get smoothies instead of coffee, though, because Erica had already dropped the love potion into Cute Starbuck's boy's water, and told him, and now she said she had to play 'the waiting game'. Derek had let her ramble on, completely lost in his own thoughts, (again), when she snapped her manicured fingers in front of his face.

"What's going on with you? I know you didn't ask to go get smoothies because you wanted an update on my love life." She commented, taking another small sip of her kiwi smoothie.

Derek sighed, pushing his hand wearily up his face. "Ok, so you know last night, at the voodoo shop?"

 ** _Oh God, here we go again with the damn voodoo shop_** **.**

"Mhmm," Erica muttered, flicking her rather uninterested eyes up at him.

Derek froze, frowning. Then he slammed his hand on the table, rattling their smoothies. Erica's tipped over the edge and exploded everywhere.

"Jesus, Derek!" She shouted, flicking a kiwi piece off of her shoulder.

 ** _I should make him buy me a new one. But a strawberry one this time. That kiwi was disgusting_** **.**

"Shit," Derek murmured, pulling his hands through his hair in an anxious, desperate sort of way. He had to make her understand. "Remember how I told you he pricked my hand, then was gone? This morning, I woke up, and I can _read people's minds_."

Erica was still rubbing smoothie out of her shirt when he said this. She paused. Looked up.

 ** _Did Stiles slip something into his drink? It wouldn't surprise me. The little fuckers always messing with Derek._**

"Der, darling, I think it would benefit you greatly if you went back home and took a little nap."

Derek growled, and Erica rolled her eyes. "I'm not on anything, Erica. Do you want me to prove it?"

"That would be nice, yeah," Erica deadpanned, leaning forward on the table. "If you can guess what I'm thinking, I'll believe you."

Derek prayed the curse wouldn't disappear.

 ** _Okay, gotta think of something so random, he'll never be able to guess it. Ever. Toasters… something along the lines of kitchen devices? Spanish maybe… hell, who am I kidding? He can't read minds. I'll just think of that crack in the sidewalk._**

Derek silently blessed the voodoo man, for a very short time, and smiled at Erica. Actually smiled. She frowned at him, leaning back and crossing her arms. "So, magic boy, what was I thinking of?"

"First you were thinking about toasters, or kitchen devices. Then you moved on to Spanish, and then came to the conclusion that I can't read minds, so you were just going to think of the crack in the sidewalk."

Erica's mouth dropped open. Only by a couple centimeters, but still. Her gaze moved to Derek's forehead, where it rested for a while, before she let out a very muffled, " _Shit_ , _"_

x~x~x

After Erica had gotten over the fact that Derek could read minds, she stared at him for about five minutes straight, thinking all of her thoughts almost forcefully. It felt like she was shouting at him with her mind.

"Okay, so." Erica started, running her pointer finger over her mouth as she thought. "It comes and goes, right?"

Derek gave a nod.

"And you first were able to read minds when you woke up?"

Derek nodded again.

"So I think the obvious answer is to go back to the voodoo man, at the shop." She responded, drawing to a conclusion. "We won't figure anything out by sitting here and fucking around with your new superpower."

Derek stood up too, a little uneasy at the thought of going back to the voodoo shop. But, Erica was right- he had to see what the hell was going on.

Following Erica to her car, Derek got into the passenger's side and stared out the window, wondering if there was a distance limit for reading people's mind. As he focused on different people, he found that he couldn't grasp what they were thinking. Turning back to Erica, he tried it on her but found nothing.

"It's gone again," Derek murmured, and Erica let out a sigh of relief.

"Good, I've been keeping my thoughts annoyingly clean for you and it was starting to make me tired."

Rolling his eyes, Derek stopped when he saw the shop come into view. A strange knot appeared in his stomach, and he was suddenly extremely reluctant to get out. Erica was already out of the car and walking towards the door, however, so Derek forced himself out, and followed her.

Pushing the door open, Erica smiled when it offered no resistance back. Hopefully this wouldn't be like the stereotypical curse story. You get cursed, you go back to see the person who cursed you, and they're gone. Hopefully.

"Hello?" Erica called, leaning over the counter and checking in all the aisles of the store. "I'm looking to buy something!"

Suddenly, the shopkeeper appeared again, but this time, he didn't try to hide his sudden entrance. He just suddenly _was_ in front of them, his ridiculous black robe still draped creepily around him.

"Do not lie," he said casually, picking up one of the candles that burned revenge to blow dust off of it. "I am no idiot. I know why you are back, and it is not to buy something."

Derek took a step forward, wanting to bunch the guy's robes up and force him to change him back. "I don't know what you did to me, but I want it to _stop_. I'm going to go crazy if I keep having to hear people's voices in my head."

The shopkeeper waved his hand. "You won't go crazy. I made the curse so your ability came and went, with freewill of its own. You will only ever be extremely agitated."

Erica had had enough. "Okay, magic man. I get it that you want to fuck around with Derek here, I really do. But I'm pretty sure whatever is going on here is illegal, and I could get the police on your skinny, gray little ass in ten seconds flat. So I suggest you uncurse Derek, so I can get back to my life."

The shopkeeper studied Erica for a second, then shrugged his shoulders. "Of course it is illegal. I already know that. But you must be beyond naïve to believe that the police will actually catch me?" He laughed slightly, and Derek's uneasy feeling grew. "No, I think I will let this giant boy with a loneliness in his heart bigger than even he is learn a little something about companionship."

"You can't b-"

But before Erica could finish her sentence, the shopkeeper was gone, and they were standing alone in the dusty shop.

x~x~x

Derek stormed home, the annoying thoughts of people buzzing in his head the whole walk back to his apartment.

 ** _Why did he break up with me? What did I do?_**

 ** _That's one fucking disgusting looking dog. What breed even_** **is** ** _that?_**

 ** _WE ARE ALL OUT OF SPINACH DIP._**

Shaking his head and letting out a low growl, Derek nearly exploded through the door, almost leaving a crack in the dry wall from slamming it back shut.

 ** _Someone's grouchy. I bet they ran out of weights for him at the gym. Sorry, bud, we don't have 400 lb weights. You'll have to settle for bench pressing small cars from now on._**

There was a following snicker, and Derek suddenly understood why Stiles was constantly smiling or grinning. It was because he was making dumb-ass jokes in his head. God.

"Did you clean up the milk?" Derek asked, stomping into the living room, where Stiles was curled around a pillow on the couch, watching TV.

"Mmmmmmhmmmmmmm," Stiles responded, glancing over at him while stretching himself out on the couch. His lanky limbs unfurled surprisingly gracefully, and the hem of his shirt rode up just enough for Derek to see the smooth expanse of his flat chest. Derek swallowed thickly.

"I'm guessing they didn't have a shirt tight enough for your liking?" Stiles asked, sitting up and clicking the TV off with the remote.

"Ha fucking ha, Stiles." Derek grunted, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes, hoping for one second that his curse had passed for the moment.

 ** _He looks like he needs a back rub._**

Derek's eye twitched.

 ** _Maybe a sponge bath._**

Derek's other eye twitched.

 ** _No, what he really needs is a lesson in yoga._**

Derek had no other eyes to twitch, so he opened them up to glare at Stiles. The answering grin was so cute and cheeky, Derek wanted to grab his face with one hand and pull him into the crook of his neck.

"You look like you need a hooker."

Blinking, Derek frowned over at Stiles. Hadn't he thought a _yoga_ lesson? Perhaps his curse had left again. Sighing, Derek rubbed a weary hand against his face.

"No, Stiles' I do not need a hooker."

"Of course you do! Look at you, this whole giant coil of sexual male tension, sitting on that couch looking like you could really fuck someone into the ground or something. When was the last time you were laid?" Stiles asked, a smug ass little grin on his face. He knew the answer, for Christ's sake. He _lived_ with him.

"A while," Derek answered anyways, wanting to strangle the cocky little shit.

"Exactly. That's what hookers are for. Releasing all the pulsating, thrumming sexual energy."

 ** _I wouldn't mind letting him release his sexual energy on me. Having him fuck me into the floor til' I couldn't breathe, or tie me to his bed posts and let him completely attack me, mark me, spank me, bite me, then fuck me until the shape of his name is a permanent word on my lips._**

Derek's pants were suddenly very tight, and Stiles' face was suddenly very flushed.

"So, yeah." He muttered, his voice about ten octaves lower than before. He cleared his throat. "A hooker."

Derek wasn't going to make it through the night.

x~x~x

 **You've made it to the end! Yay or nay? Please tell me in a review or PM how you felt about it, or any suggestions you'd like to make (I'm open to anything: funny scenes, sexual themes, fluffy scenes) for the next chapter. Huzzah!**

-IC


End file.
